


Trust Me

by Pastel_dreamer



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Knife Wound, Mild Blood, Mild Language, One Shot, Stitches, hurt Nezumi, nezumi gets beat up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27563485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_dreamer/pseuds/Pastel_dreamer
Summary: Nezumi gets jumped while coming home from work and it's up to Shion to take care of him. Nezumi is going to have to decide whether or not he can depend on Shion in times of need.
Relationships: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place sometime while Shion and Nezumi live together. (Episode 4 through 6 in the anime) Also, disclaimer idk if I have to put this anymore but I do not own No. 6 or any of the characters.

It had been hours.

Shion glanced once again at the cracked clock nailed to the wall, the two arms read 3:30 am. He frowned, what in the world was Nezumi doing? He had left for work eleven hours ago, and while sometimes he came back later in the evening after a big performance night, he was never this late. 

It was always dangerous to go out after the sun went down, but tonight seemed to carry an ominous air. Maybe it was the sound of harsh rain pattering down on the metal roofs and trash bins, or perhaps it was the chill wind that howled through the night, a grim reminder that winter was coming soon. All of it tied together to lead Shion deeper into worry with each hour that slowly passed. Deep down inside him, a small feeling nagged at him, telling him something was wrong. He sighed, absentmindedly petting one of the mice. Nezumi was more than capable of protecting himself, he could handle anything. 

Shion went back to rearranging and dusting the seemingly endless amount of books, not really paying attention to how they were put on the shelf. He could not concentrate properly, and though tiredness pulled at his eyes, he promised to stay awake for when Nezumi came home. If he did. Shion angrily shook those thoughts from his head again. He would return. He had too. 

4 am came along and Nezumi was still gone. Shion was close to saying screw it and going out to look for Nezumi himself when a loud thud against the door interrupted his thoughts. He froze: the doorknob shook as someone tried to open it. Shion was close to panic. They kept their door locked at all times, Nezumi knew this and had a key to get in. So if that was him, why was he trying to open it? He quietly searched around the kitchen for an old knife, holding it in front of him like a shield. He wished Nezumi were here right now, what were the odds he would be gone the one night someone decided to break into their place. The door handle jiggled again, followed by several more thuds. Shion took another step back, hands shaking. 

The click of a key sounded through the quiet apartment. Shion slumped in relief, putting the knife on the counter and opening the door with trembling hands. "Nezumi, you scared me-"

He stopped as Nezumi stumbled past him, staggering to one of the rickety kitchen chairs and collapsing into it, breathing heavily. He was soaked head to toe from the rain, and he clenched his middle tightly with both arms. He put his head down on the table, his hair falling into his face. 

Shion frowned, shutting and locking the door. “Are you drunk?” If that was the case, Shion was going to have quite a few words to say. 

Nezumi didn't answer, and Shion tried again. “Nezumi, Where have you been? I’ve been worried-” The words died on his lips when he saw the drops of red dotting the floor. 

Shion’s insides rolled. In the dim light, he could see bright red blood trickling from between Nezumi's fingers. His clothes had been ripped apart, and his pockets slashed open. Shion rushed to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, quickly pressing it into Nezumi's lap, "here, hold that there."

“I'm fine,” Nezumi said, sucking in another breath, “I jus-just need a minute.” 

Shion could not believe him sometimes. He hurried around the small room, looking for supplies to stop the bleeding. “‘No, obviously you are not fine, you're bleeding! What happened?” 

"It doesn't matter,”

"Nezumi. I need to know so I can help you,”

He sighed, shifting in the chair. “Some thieves cornered me. They outnumbered me, took all the money I had earned this month. I tried to fight back but I got cut.”

Shion couldn't believe how cruel people could be sometimes. He grabbed towels from a small cupboard and laid them out over the bed. Nezumi turned his head to watch him, his tired eyes following Shion around the room. 

“I'm glad you're alive,” Shion said, “I knew something was wrong when you were gone this long, especially on a night like this. Where did you put the first aid kit?”

“In the bathroom- under the sink,” Nezumi muttered. 

Shion went to the bathroom and pulled out a small, battered, box with a dingy-looking red cross on it. He tossed it on the bed. He grabbed the other chair and pulled it beside the bed, setting down an old bowl with warm water and a washcloth beside it. 

With everything set up, he crouched down beside Nezumi. “Look up for me so I can see.” 

He hesitated, “it's not as bad as it looks alright? You don’t need to freak out.”

“I can handle it Nezumi,” Shion said, steeling himself. 

He lifted his head off the table, swaying slightly. Shion couldn't help but gasp.

Blue, yellow, and black covered his face in ugly splodges, and blood was smeared from cuts on his cheek and lip. His left eye was nearly swollen shut and blood streamed from his nose. 

“Get up. We need to get you on the bed so I can see the wound on your side.” Shion lightly grabbed Nezumi's arm, but he resisted. 

“I-I can take care of it myself. I just need another moment,” Nezumi slurred, fingers tightening around his side. 

Seems like whoever jumped him took his common sense as well. Shion sighed, “please let me help, it looks serious.”

He groaned, “fine.” He pushed himself up, sucking in a pained breath. Shion came to his side, wrapping his arm under his shoulder. 

The two made their way over to the bed, Nezumi leaning heavily on Shion. Shion maneuvered and laid him down on the towels, adjusting his legs and removing his jacket so that he was left in just a t-shirt. He took a seat beside the bed and rolled up his sleeves. He pulled at Nezumi's shirt, letting out a sigh of frustration as the wet fabric clung to him, saturated with blood and rainwater. Nezumi flinched but stayed still as Shion pulled. 

“We don’t have time for this,” Shion muttered, taking out a small knife. “Hold still.” 

“You owe me a new shirt,” Nezumi mumbled as Shion cut the fabric away, throwing it to the ground. 

Shion's eyes widened. Nezumi's body was covered with fresh bruises and cuts, but the most severe was a long, deep cut that stretched from the bottom of his ribs to about the hip bone. Shion swallowed nervously. It would need stitches. Not something he was the best at, but he could do it. Not like he had a choice. 

“Is it bad?” Nezumi asked, his eyes dull and unfocused. 

Shion frowned, moving his hands out of the way. "I can fix it. Try to stay still." He dipped the washcloth in water and began to wipe away the blood. Nezumi let out a short scream, shoving Shion’s hands away. Shion pushed his hands back, continuing to clean the cut. 

“Nezumi, I need to do this, please.” Shion paled as he cleaned the blood away. There was so much of it, he grabbed another towel as the first one quickly became saturated with blood. Nezumi flinched at the cold water but clenched his fists at his sides. 

Shion searched through the dirty first aid box. “You don't have painkillers. Not even some aspirin. His eyebrows came together. “I guess we will have to do it without.” 

“Wait, what are you doing,” Nezumi asked, grimacing as he tried to push himself up on his elbows. 

“That cut in your side is deep enough it needs stitches, Nezumi,” Shion said patiently, gently pushing him back down onto the pillow. “Try to relax. It's just like five years ago right?” He gave a reassuring smile, reaching up and moving the hair out of Nezumi's eyes. 

Nezumi stared at Shion, taking a deep breath. “Don't fuck this up.” 

Shion nodded seriously, "you can trust me."

* * *

A thousand things raced through Nezumi's mind as he lay there. At the front was the searing pain that spread through his entire body. He wanted to hit himself. He knew taking a shortcut through that alleyway was a stupid idea but he thought he could handle it. He shivered as he thought back to the event. It was cold and rainy and after a long night, all he wanted to do was get home as fast as possible. His pay from that month sat heavy in his pocket, a thick roll of crumpled cash earned from working overtime and late nights at the theater. 

He had almost made it home when they seemed to come out of nowhere, people in masks and dark coats, carrying lead pipes and rusty knives. There were seven of them, all waiting for the right moment to corner him. 

"Looks like someone wandered where they aren't supposed to be," one of them chuckled, "happen to have any money on ya?" 

Nezumi quickly assessed the situation. They had surrounded him, trapping him deep into the ally. Before any of them had time to react, he pulled his knife out of his pocket, charging at the biggest member. He slashed forward, cutting the man's chest open. Before he could do anything else a pipe slammed into his side and he fell to the ground, his knife slipping out of his hand and skidding across the wet asphalt. They were on him in an instant: heavy hands and sharp knives punching and ripping and pulling as they searched for anything of value while he struggled uselessly. 

One pulled out the cash from Nezumi's pocket, holding it high above his head with a shout of joy. Nezumi jumped up after him, but before he could grab it they brought the knife down, slicing down his side. He crumpled to the ground with a shout of pain as punches and kicks began to rain down on him, leaving his head ringing and dark spots dancing in front of his eyes. 

Eventually, the blows stopped, and with a final kick and a laugh, they slunk back into the shadows and disappeared into the night. Nezumi lay useless as he watched them walk away, blood and rain mixing and stinging his eyes. After he was sure they were gone, he stumbled up, resisting the urge to vomit as his body protested. Hot sticky blood ran between his fingers and he pressed his hands deeper into his side in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. He had to get back to Shion. If anyone else found him he was as good as dead. He stumbled home and unlocked the front door, silently thankful they didn't take his keys.

If Shion hadn't been there when he walked through that door, he honestly didn't know what he would have done. He barely had enough energy to make it across the room, much less give himself stitches. It was yet another debt he now owed Shion. 

He watched Shion through half-lidded eyes as the night's events replayed in his head. He felt uncomfortably vulnerable as Shion rummaged through the first aid kit, laying out bandages and scissors. It was different to see Shion so confident and serious. It was a far difference from the timid, naive boy he had rescued from No. 6.

He tried to relax despite the burning in his side. The pain was something like old tv static, dulling everything else around him and filling his head with buzzing. The room seemed too bright and too out of focus at the same time. Vaguely, Nezumi felt a sharp stinging in his side and realized Shion had started to sew, humming absentmindedly in a vain attempt to stay calm. It was nauseating to watch, and the room spun as he struggled to stay awake. 

“I'm almost done, stay with me,“ Shion said, his steady hands never slowing down, making quick, small stitches. When he was done, he wrapped it in bandages. 

Despite the alarm bells going off in his head, Nezumi's eyes drifted shut, but before he could fall asleep, a light hand tapped his face. “Nezumi. Hey, stay awake a little longer. Does anything feel broken?”

Nezumi shook his head, grimacing as Shion pressed down on his ribs. “Shion, they took the money.” Their masked faces rose before him, and he flinched as he remembered the pain and the bone-chilling cold. 

Shion's gentle touch on his face brought him back again. “I'm just happy you're okay. Hold this to your face, it will help reduce the swelling." Shion gave him a cold rag and he rested it on his face, the chill soothing his eye.

Shion gently cleaned and bandaged the rest of Nezumi as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He absentmindedly wondered why he wasn't more alert, Shion could do anything to him, he was totally defenseless. But yet, he just felt tired and worn out. He closed his eyes again, drifting off into an uneasy sleep. 

Nezumi awoke to the smell of mushroom soup. He looked over and saw Shion standing tiredly over a pot, stirring absentmindedly. 

Shion noticed the staring and glanced over. “Oh, Nezumi, you're awake!” He said, not a trace of exhaustion entering his voice. He gave the soup one more stir and took a seat beside the bed, hands flitting around Nezumi. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?” 

Nezumi groaned, Shion's words carving into his skull like a hot knife. “What time is it?” 

“It's 5:35 pm” 

His eyes widened, he had slept over eleven hours. He pushed himself into a sitting position, his side pulling painfully. He had a performance tonight at ten. The room spun around him and he squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. 

“Take it easy,” Shion said, fixing the pillows around him. "You don't want to tear your stitches."

“I have to go to work tonight,” Nezumi announced, sounding more confident than he felt.

“What? Have you lost your mind?” Shion said, disbelief in his eyes, “like Hell you are.” 

He sighed. He knew it would not be easy to convince Shion. “I'm the main act tonight. Not to mention those cowardly bitches stole my money for the entire month. If I don't go to work, we can both say goodbye to eating.”

“I have money saved up from washing dogs, I can use that to buy something.”

“Shion if I don’t get that money, we will go hungry, we can’t buy anything we need if something happens.”

Shion was stubborn. “I don’t care if we have to live in a box, you are not going to work and that’s final.”

Nezumi tried to get up but Shion pushed him back down easily with a little more force than strictly required. He sucked in a painful breath as his side flared up. Shion's hand stayed on his chest. 

“You are not going anywhere,” Shion said, his eyes hard. “You almost died. You need to rest. Is that word in your vocabulary?” 

Nezumi glared, “what? Are you going to stop me?” 

“Yes, in fact, I will. It shouldn't be too hard considering you can't even sit up on your own,” Shion challenged, “rest. We can sort something out tomorrow.” 

He was in no place to argue so he relaxed back into the pillows as Shion dished up the soup and handed him a bowl. He ate it without complaint, the inklings of a new plan beginning to form in his mind. That evening he pretended to be asleep as Shion cleaned up and settled in beside him, falling asleep almost instantly. He must have been up all day looking after him, Nezumi thought, listening to his long, even breaths. He sat up quietly, taking a long breath. 

He was going to go to work.

* * *

Shion started awake to the sound of a loud crash and a harsh scream. The bed was empty. 

Nezumi. 

Adrenaline pumped through him as he stumbled out of bed and flicked on the light, illuminating the room. Nezumi lay crumpled facedown on the floor next to an upturned chair. Clenched in his hand he held his satchel. 

“You were trying to leave,” Shion said, his voice flat. 

Nezumi struggled to sit up with shaky arms but fell again with a groan. Red started to soak through the bandages and his skin looked paler than usual in the light. “I can't depend on you for money. What if something happens?” 

Shion crouched down beside him, placing a hand on his back. “Your life is more important than that money. Besides, what will happen if you go on stage and fall again? It won't do you any good.” 

Nezumi refused to meet Shion's eyes. He was right, it was a stupid idea but he had to try. He had learned from a young age couldn't rely on other people to help him when he fucked up, the world was a cruel place. There was no room for sick days.

“Help me up,” he said. 

Shion crossed his arms. "No. Not unless you promise to stay home and rest." 

Nezumi frowned, contemplating dragging himself to the theater out of spite, but the warm feeling of blood stopped him. The wound on his side had opened again. He admitted defeat, lifting a hand. "Fine. I'll stay."

Shion's shoulders slumped in relief, “thank you.”

Shion helped the other back onto the bed and quickly grabbed the first aid kit again, sighing. "I did a good job on those stitches and they didn't even last a day, you have to be more careful from now on."

Nezumi rolled his eyes as Shion continued to lecture him about the importance of self-care, twinging uncomfortably as Shion rebandaged his side. 

When Shion was done he sat back, examining his work. “There. Now stay here this time.”

“If we end up starving to death, I'm going to kill you,” Nezumi said. 

"We will be fine. Now get some rest." Shion smiled, flicking off the lights and laying down beside him. “Trust me.” 

The words echoed through his head, and in the darkness Nezumi relaxed his shoulders, comforted by the slow and steady breath of Shion. No matter how it turned out, he decided he would put his trust in him. "Thank you, Shion," he whispered. Shion hummed drowsily in response and for the first time in a long time, Nezumi slept peacefully. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! I originally wrote this in 2018 and was too nervous to ever post it but I got covid the other day (I don't know how I got it because I have been staying inside all the time but besides the point) I had to isolate all by myself soooo I dug this up and rewrote it for fun. No. 6 was one of the first animes I watched and it remains a comfort anime for me when I'm sad. Also a quick disclaimer: this probs is Not medically accurate but I like to think it just adds to the *spice* that is ff. Also it has been a hot minute since I have watched No.6 so if the characters are not accurate I apologize lol. 
> 
> That being said I use the Grammarly free version so if there are any grammar mistakes or any other glaring mistakes please let me know! Also if you liked it drop a comment! I get really happy when other people read my things and I always like to hear what people liked or ways I can improve. :) Stay safe!! <3


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